


It's Warm Enough in My Arms

by SPowell



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, First Time, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Snuggling, a bit of pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-27
Updated: 2013-11-27
Packaged: 2018-01-02 19:21:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1060615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SPowell/pseuds/SPowell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur and Merlin are best friends. Gwaine thinks they should be more. Secretly, Arthur agrees.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Warm Enough in My Arms

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bunnysworld](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bunnysworld/gifts).



> Written for November's theme Snuggle for Warmth. A Christmas fic.

 

“Just seems to me that Merlin would be the obvious choice for Arthur,” Kristen says, buttering the rolls one by one and setting them in the basket.

“Arthur’s never found Merlin attractive,” Gwaine says loudly enough for Arthur to hear. He picks a pecan off the pie and pops it into his mouth with an evil grin. Elena smacks his hand and moves the pie out of reach.

“Oi! That’s not true!” Arthur objects, turning around on the stool where he’s been perched watching Will and Lance’s chess match. “When I first saw Merlin, I thought him the prettiest boy I’d ever seen.”

Gwaine sends Elena a look and a wink as Merlin colours from his neck to his roots.

“For an idiot,” Arthur amends quickly, taking the basket of rolls Gwen hands him and heading for the dining room.

***

 

“Elena, what is that horrible thumping noise?”

“It’s the heater, Mother,” Elena says.

The older woman shakes her head. “I should never have let you and your sister move to England. It’s entirely too cold, and it sounds as though your heater isn’t going to last much longer.”

“Mom,” Kristen objects, “we grew up in Minnesota where it’s colder than a penguin’s coochie!”

“Kristen, don’t be lewd,” Mrs. Dale admonishes. “The sun never comes out here, and it’s always raining.”

“If I hadn’t moved here, I never would have met Gwaine.” Elena gives Gwaine a soft look.

“Well, I haven’t yet decided if that’s a good thing or not,” Elena’s mother teases, and Gwaine gives a fake pout that has her fawning over him in seconds.

“Have some more turkey, Gwaine, dear. Anyway,” Mrs. Dale leans in to tell her daughters quietly. “I’m glad to be here to meet all your lovely friends,” Mrs. Dale smiles and looks around the table. “Such nice couples.” Her eyes scan over Will and Freya, Lance and Gwen, coming to rest on Arthur and Merlin. Arthur leans in to whisper something into Merlin’s ear, and Merlin grins, cheeks dimpling. “Even the non-traditional ones.”

Elena and Kristen look at one another and smother their smiles.

 

 

****

“Elena, you Americans are sadistic,” Arthur groans, burying his face in his hands.

“Come here, you,” Merlin says from the other end of the couch, pulling Arthur down and placing a hand on his flat stomach, methodically rubbing as Arthur gazes up at him, sleepy-eyed.

“I told you not to eat so much,” Merlin chides affectionately.

“I thought the point of this holiday was to eat as much as possible,” Arthur grumbles.

“I believe it’s to give thanks,” Gwaine says from a nearby chair. “And I personally give thanks for that delicious pecan pie that Elena’s mother made.”

“Why, thank you, Gwaine,” Mrs. Dale smiles at him, hurrying to open the door for Will as he bustles by on his way to put a bag of trash outside.

“You two want me to wrap you up some left-overs?” Elena calls from the kitchen where she, Gwen, and Freya bustle about.

“No!” Arthur grunts loudly, turning his face into Merlin’s lap.

“Oi, Arthur, watch it!” Merlin squeaks, shifting a little before calling out, “And that’s a _yes_ , Elena!” He looks back down at Arthur. “You’re going to want some of that turkey and stuffing for lunch tomorrow, just wait.”

Arthur squeezes his eyes shut. “I’ll never eat again.”

Elena’s mother returns and takes a seat next to Lance on the smaller couch, regarding Merlin and Arthur with affection.

“The two of you make the sweetest couple. Do you have plans to get married now that it’s a possibility?”

Gwaine hides his smile behind his hand while Lance barks a laugh.

“We’re just good friends, Mrs. Dale,” Merlin tells her politely.

“Oh!” the older woman turns pink with embarrassment. “I’m sorry, I just assumed…I mean. I suppose just because two men are comfortable touching doesn’t necessarily make them gay; I should know better than to assume like that.”

“Oh, we’re gay!” Merlin hurries to assure her. “We’re just not boyfriends.”

Mrs. Dale frowns in confusion, looking to the others for help. “Oh. But you seem…”

Gwaine laughs outright.

“Shut it, Gwaine,” Arthur says from Merlin’s lap. He glances over at the woman with a smile. “They like to tease us. We’ve been best mates since…well, forever. We’re just very comfortable with each other.”

Mrs. Dale nods, but she looks like she doesn’t get it at all.

Elena bounds out of the kitchen. “Everyone has leftovers to take home!” She announces, flinging herself onto Gwaine’s lap. Gwaine lets out a strangled noise as he just manages to keep his nuts from getting squashed. “They’re all marked with your names and in the refrigerator.”

“Elena, you let me think that Arthur and Merlin are a couple,” her mother admonishes. “I just embarrassed myself.”

“Oh, they’re a couple, Mom. They just don’t know it yet,” Elena grins. Arthur and Merlin groan simultaneously.

“I think I’ll go to my room for a little nap,” Mrs. Dale shakes her head, standing. “You young folks have fun.”

Elena kisses her mother on the cheek before settling back onto Gwaine’s lap, this time hitting the target.

“Oof! Elena,” Gwaine says huskily, “If you ever want children, you’d best leave off with the bouncing on my lap!”

Elena turns on him with wide eyes. “Why, is that a proposal, Gwaine Greene?”

Gwaine suddenly looks caught, and the others laugh uproariously at his expense, including Elena.

Will returns and sits down beside Freya. Kristen can be heard talking on the telephone in the kitchen.

“Do you think it’s cold in here?” Elena asks after a moment, burying her hands between her knees.

“I do,” Gwen answers, sitting down next to Lance and tucking her feet under her legs.

“My furnace hasn’t been working right,” Elena sighs. “ _Someone_ promised to fix it.” She glares at Gwaine.

“I did fix it!” Gwaine retorts.

Merlin grabs one of the throws off the back of the couch and pulls it around his shoulders, shivering. “Fix it again, would you?”

Gwaine rolls his eyes and gets up from the chair, unceremoniously knocking Elena onto the floor in the process.

“Hey!” she complains. Gwaine helps her up, giving her a swift kiss before disappearing down the basement stairs.

“Let’s watch a film,” Lance suggests, riffling through Elena and Kristen’s DVD collection.

“ _Iron Man!_ ” Will leans over and plucks it from the rest.

There’s general agreement, and Will puts the movie on to play.

Arthur rolls to his side, tugging the throw from Merlin’s shoulders so it covers him, too. He grabs a pillow and tucks it under his head, which is still cradled in Merlin’s lap.

“Comfortable?” Merlin asks wryly.

“Quite,” Arthur answers.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to shift a little to the right? Perhaps move my knee to support your spine?”

“No, no. This is fine,” Arthur sighs, and Merlin rolls his eyes.

Sounds of metal pounding from the basement drift to their ears as the opening movie credits appear.

“Is he beating it with a wrench?” Will asks incredulously. “No wonder the bloody thing doesn’t work!”

Arthur sighs, stomach full. He soon falls asleep to the feel of Merlin’s fingers softly carding through his hair.

***

 

It’s late and snow falls heavily outside. It’s been established that everyone will spend the night at Elena’s rather than drive the treacherous streets. Gwaine looks speculatively over at the two men on the couch. Merlin has shifted to lie on his side, Arthur pressed up against him, Merlin’s arm draped over Arthur’s midriff. Every so often, Merlin’s long fingers unconsciously brush against the exposed strip of Arthur’s belly.

“Merlin, I forgot to tell you…I have the perfect bloke for you,” Gwaine says casually.

Merlin looks at him. “Yeah? Who is it?”

“Gilly Sanderson.”

“Who?”

“Gilly Sanderson. He’s a lad on my rugby team.”

Arthur makes a derisive sound.

“What?” Gwaine asks.

“Nothing,” Arthur says.

“No, obviously you have something to say. What’s wrong with Gilly?”

“Nothing, if you fancy someone who can’t count higher than twenty,” Arthur replies. “I think he’s been tackled too many times on the rugby field.”

“Is he slow or something?” Merlin asks.

Arthur snorts. “That’s one way of putting it.”

“No, he’s not _slow_!” Gwaine objects. “Arthur’s just being an arse.”

“Merlin is too smart for him,” Arthur says. “He’d be bored silly.”

“I thought I was an idiot,” Merlin reminds Arthur, tugging at the blond hair in front of his face.

“You are, which goes to show just how dumb Gilly is,” Arthur replies.

Gwen stirs from where she’s fallen asleep against Lance and glances at the television where the second movie they put in is almost over. She shivers. “Didn’t you fix the heater, Gwaine?”

“I couldn’t,” Gwaine tells her. “I’ll have to call a repair man in the morning.”

“Bollocks, it’s cold!” Gwen curls back into Lance, who lets out a snore.

“I’ll get some blankets,” Gwaine offers, moving off the chair and stepping over Elena where she’s sprawled on the floor, dozing under her grandmother’s afghan.

***

An hour later, everyone is situated for the night.

“I just want to point out, Arthur,” Elena says into the darkness from the make-shift bed on the floor, “that it’s very telling that you choose to snuggle up to Merlin. You could always sleep on the floor with us.”

Arthur’s voice is muffled by blankets. “Someone has to keep him warm! He has no blood circulation!”

“I do, too!” Merlin objects, and then, “Oi, Arthur, come back here! I’m freezing!”

Arthur laughs among rustling sounds.

“Why should they sleep apart here?” Gwaine asks. “They never do at home.”

“We have our own beds at home,” Arthur argues.

“That you take turns sleeping in together,” Gwaine finishes.

“Arthur and I are used to sleeping together,” Merlin tells him. “We have done plenty of times since we were thirteen.”

“I’m not saying anything; Elena’s the one who brought it up,” Gwaine replies innocently.

“I only said it’s interesting, that’s all,” Elena rolls over. “Didn’t mean to get you three going.”

“Did you lose a sock, Merlin? God! Your foot is an ice cube!”

“Would you two pipe down?” Will says grouchily. “I’m trying to sleep!”

“Will!” Freya admonishes. “Elena, where did Kristen go?”

“She’s sleeping with Mom,” Elena answers. “And I let Gwen and Lance take my bed, since Lance hurt his back recently.”

“What are you two going on about?” Gwaine asks, listening to Arthur and Merlin snickering above them on the sofa.

“He’s tickling me!” Arthur chortles, head popping out from under the covers. “Merlin, stop!”

“Fuck each other and be done with it, why don’t you?” Will mutters, rolling over on the bed he and Freya have made out of the over-sized chair and ottoman.

Merlin and Arthur eventually still, and all goes quiet.

***

“Gwaine?”

“Mmm?”

“You awake?”

“Fuck, what time issit?”

“I don’t know,” Arthur whispers. “Late.”

A faint shine from the snow outside coming through the thick curtains is the only thing illuminating the room where Gwaine can vaguely make out the huddled figures of his friends, bodies rising and lowering rhythmically in sleep.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?” Gwaine asks Arthur quietly.

“I can’t,” Arthur answers. “Why is everyone always going on about me and Merlin? Do you really think we’re so odd?”

Gwaine grunts. "Go to sleep, Arthur."

"No, really." Arthur sighs impatiently. "Gwaine?"

Aroused from his drowsiness at the unusual introspection in Arthur's tone, Gwaine rolls over and answers. “The two of you are extremely close.”

“Is that so bad?” Arthur whispers. Behind him, Merlin’s breathing is deep and even.

“No, Arthur,” Gwaine says, choosing his words carefully. “It’s just obvious to all of us that the two of you love each other. You always have. And it’s just…weird…to listen to you go on about how you can’t find that special someone when he’s right there under your nose.”

Arthur’s quiet for so long, Gwaine thinks he’s angry or maybe he’s fallen asleep. He waits, staring up at the dark ceiling. When Arthur finally speaks, his voice is unsteady.

“Can we talk about this later?”

“Of course,” Gwaine answers, surprised.

***

Arthur broaches the subject again the day before Christmas Eve when, having spent hours scouring the stores for last minute gifts, he and Gwaine sit with hot cups of coffee in a corner of the mall, watching the other harried shoppers bustle about.

“Remember our conversation about me and Merlin?” Arthur begins hesitantly, not looking at Gwaine but across the mall at a flashing sign advertising items for sale.

“Yes,” Gwaine nods, leaning back in his chair. “I’ve been wondering when you’d bring it up again.”

Arthur glances at him, his aristocratic features and blond hair drawing the attention of a group of girls walking by. They giggle into their hands, whispering, but Arthur is oblivious. “Do you really think we’re…that we’d be good for each other that way?”

Gwaine frowns, at a loss for words for a moment.

“Arthur, do you mean to tell me that in all the years you and Merlin have known one another, you’ve never experimented at all, or even discussed the possibility of dating?”

Arthur looks down at his coffee cup and slowly shakes his head. “Truth is, I don’t think Merlin’s attracted to me.”

Gwaine shakes his head, unable to fathom this. “So you and Merlin have slept in the same bed, and he’s never even had a boner?”

“Well, a morning boner, obviously,” Arthur says irritably. “But Merlin and I have never kissed or anything. We’ve always just been friends.” He looks at Gwaine and then away again. “But I confess, I have thought about it a few times. Merlin just doesn’t think of me that way, and I don’t want to make things awkward between us. When you or anyone else teases us, he doesn’t seem very interested in the idea.”

“Neither do you,” Gwaine reminds him.

“But I’m really just covering up,” Arthur says.

“He could be, too.”

“What if he’s not?” Arthur asks. “There’s a lot riding on this, Gwaine.” He shakes his head. “No, it’s better to leave it alone.”

“I disagree,” Gwaine says, leaning forward. “Get it out in the open. You could be missing the best thing in your life just because you’re both too scared to make a move. Every one of your friends can see it; there must be something to it.”

Arthur sighs. “Merlin hasn’t been sleeping in my bed much lately, ever since the teasing at Elena’s. I don’t know why, but I’m afraid it’s because he’s realized it’s weird and shouldn’t be happening if we’re just mates.”

Gwaine’s face sobers. “I’m sorry, Arthur.”

Arthur presses his lips together. “It’s okay. I need to know one way or another.” An idea begins to form in his mind.

***

“Oh, my God, Arthur, why in the fuck is it so cold in here?” Merlin asks, shivering as he closes the front door to the small house they share and slipping out of his shoes. Arthur is sitting by the tree, a fire roaring in the fireplace. Their home is usually warm and cozy, but tonight, Christmas Eve, it feels like a skating rink.

“The heater’s broken,” Arthur answers, looking up from his book at Merlin as he sets his packages down. It’s only been a few hours since Arthur turned the furnace off, and already his fingers are stiff with cold. “Finished with your shopping?”

“Yes, finally. I’ll wrap it all before we go to Leon’s tomorrow.” Merlin shivers again and sits down on the couch. He grasps a corner of Arthur’s blanket and tugs it. “Share that with me.”

Arthur smiles, obligingly opening the blanket and letting Merlin in, wrapping his arm around his friend’s shoulders and pulling him close. Merlin’s hair smells like apples.

“Mmmm,” Merlin sinks into the couch and blinks sleepily. “I like the music. New CD?”

“Yeah. I got it yesterday at the mall. Thought we could use some new Christmas music.”

Merlin ducks his nose into the blanket to warm it. “I can’t believe the furnace isn’t working. Did you call someone?”

“No one will come out on Christmas Eve,” Arthur says. “We can sleep out here by the fire.”

“I’m going to have to put more clothes on,” Merlin shivers, and Arthur pulls him in closer.

“Gilly called me today,” Merlin says after a moment, and Arthur stiffens. He hadn’t considered that Merlin might really go out on a date with Gwaine’s friend. What the fuck was Gwaine thinking, trying to get Arthur to make a move on Merlin while at the same time pushing Merlin into the arms of Gilly Sanderson?

“Are you going out with him?” Arthur asks.

“I don’t think so,” Merlin answers, and Arthur relaxes back into the couch. He realizes he’s been unconsciously nosing into Merlin’s hair and forces himself to still his actions.

“Why not?”

“I don’t know.” Merlin looks up at Arthur, bringing their faces very close for a moment. Arthur’s eyes skim over Merlin’s features.

“Is it because of what I said?” Arthur asks quietly. “You know, about him being dense.”

“Maybe. Partly. You don’t want me to go out with him, do you?” Merlin asks.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I told you why. He isn’t good enough for you,” Arthur says firmly.

“Do you really believe that?” Merlin picks at the edges of the blanket.

“Yes.”

“Who is good enough for me, Arthur?” Merlin’s lashes are impossibly dark against his pale cheeks.

“Nobody, as far as I’m concerned.” Arthur pulls Merlin closer to him, and Merlin chuckles.

“That’s going to make it awfully hard for me to find a date.”

“I don’t want you to find one,” Arthur says into Merlin’s sleeve, and he feels Merlin stiffen.

“I’ll be very lonely, then,” Merlin whispers.

Arthur shakes his head, stomach tightening, feeling the moment of truth draw nearer. “No, because you’ve got me.”

“And what about when you find someone?” Merlin asks him.

“Not going to happen,” Arthur says.

“You underestimate yourself,” Merlin counters lightly. “You’re not all that bad.”

Arthur huffs a laugh. “Thanks.” He squeezes Merlin about his lean middle.

Just as Arthur’s trying to think of a way to ask Merlin if he’d ever consider the two of them being a couple, Merlin asks, “What do you want to do about dinner?”

“What? Dinner?”

“Yee-es…,” Merlin says slowly, “you know, that meal we eat at the end of the day. We’re having the huge one tomorrow at your sister’s, so I didn’t think we’d make a fuss tonight. Do you want to order in? I think the place on the corner is open.”

Nose still buried in Merlin’s sleeve, Arthur presses a kiss to Merlin’s arm before he’s realized he’s done it. To cover, he pushes up off the couch and crosses to the kitchen. “Sure, I’ll call in an order.” He can’t bring himself to look back at Merlin, who probably already thinks he's acting crazy.

When Arthur returns, Merlin’s disappeared into the bathroom, and Arthur hears the shower running. He goes into the bedroom and quickly strips off his clothes, putting on track pants and heavy socks, a T-shirt and a long-sleeved shirt over it. Maybe he went a bit too far turning off the furnace on such a cold night, Arthur thinks; he and Merlin may be human popsicles by morning.

Arthur finds Merlin dressed in pyjama pants and a T-shirt and jumper, stoking the fire, sparks flying up the fireplace. He’s changed the music to Mariah Carey’s Merry Christmas CD. The doorbell rings, and Arthur grabs his wallet off the bar. When he brings the food back into the living area, Merlin is ready with plates and silverware.

“Quite the domestic scene,” Arthur smiles.

“Sometimes I think I’m ruined for any partner who’d have me,” Merlin says thoughtfully, digging into his usual meal that Arthur knew to order for him. “We have things down so pat, you know. What if he does everything wrong?”

Arthur finds his gut roiling at the very thought of Merlin with another man.

“I told you, I don’t want you to find a boyfriend,” Arthur replies, a little more roughly than intended, and Merlin looks up from his food, surprised.

“I thought you were kidding.”

Arthur shakes his head.

“Arthur?”

Arthur doesn’t answer, just continues eating, and Merlin keeps the silence. When they’re finished, Merlin heads for the kitchen, and Arthur listens to him rinsing the plates. The room seems even colder, in spite of the fire. Arthur gets up to gather all the blankets and pillows from their beds and make a nest on the rug in front of the fireplace. Mariah sings, “All I Want for Christmas is You,” and Arthur finds he can relate.

“You’re going to freeze if you don’t get in here!” Arthur calls to Merlin after a moment.

“It didn’t take that long. You know how I hate to wake up to sticky plates,” Merlin answers, folding his long legs and sitting in front of the fire next to Arthur.

“I would have taken care of them in the morning,” Arthur says, and Merlin gives him a look, telling him they both know Arthur wouldn’t.

Arthur lies back on the pillows, thinking of Gilly Sanderson. “Well, perhaps that’s the sort of boyfriend you want, then,” he says irritably.  “One who does the dishes and picks up after himself. Perhaps, with all his stupidity, Gilly’s a neat freak and you’ve missed out on something by turning him down.”

“Arthur, you said you didn’t want me to date Gilly,” Merlin says a bit impatiently as he stretches out next to him on the rug.

“And you always do what I say?” Arthur counters, staring at Merlin’s profile.

“Yeah, pretty much.” Merlin looks into the fire.

Arthur lets out a huff. “When pigs fly. Seems to me you always do the opposite of what I tell you.”

“Not when it really matters,” Merlin murmurs, and Arthur has to lean a little to hear the words. His fingers brush up against Merlin’s hand; it feels like ice.

“Merlin! You’re freezing!” Arthur grabs a blanket and spreads it over his friend, inching closer to him. Merlin burrows comfortably into Arthur, his nose an icicle on Arthur’s neck. “Christ, you really don’t have any circulation.”

Merlin laughs, and Arthur wraps an arm around him.

“It’s not funny. Perhaps I’ll go down and have a look at the furnace. I don’t want you to catch your death.”

Merlin makes a plaintive sound when Arthur gets up, taking his body warmth with him. Arthur makes his way through the frigid air to the basement stairs, thinking this has been one of his dumber ideas. Remembering how intimate it had been snuggling for warmth with Merlin at Elena’s, he’d thought duplicating the circumstances might bring him and Merlin to some kind of crossroads in their relationship. But it isn’t worth Merlin’s health, so Arthur fumbles down the basement stairs in his stocking feet and flips the switch to the furnace, waiting to hear the machine flair back to life. When he doesn’t, he lets out a groan of annoyance and curses under his breath.

“No luck?” Merlin asks when Arthur returns and immediately burrows under the covers.

“No,” Arthur says into Merlin’s shoulder, feeling wretched. He shivers, and Merlin wraps his arms around him.

“I stoked the fire,” Merlin says into Arthur’s hair. “Lie still a moment and you’ll be warm. It’s really quite lovely here in front of the tree.”

Slowly Arthur feels his limbs coming back to life. He clutches at the soft folds of Merlin’s jumper, face buried in the crook of Merlin’s neck where Arthur can smell soap. The familiar scent of his friend coupled with the warm embrace is so comforting, tears come to Arthur’s eyes.

“Arthur?” Merlin asks when one makes its way onto his skin. Arthur feels Merlin’s hand on the nape of his neck. “What’s the matter? It’s all right that you couldn’t fix the furnace.”

“It’s my fault that it’s broken,” Arthur admits, blinking rapidly.

Merlin laughs, pushing Arthur back so he can see his face. “I know you were brought up to believe everything’s your fault, but that’s ridiculous.”

Arthur makes a face. “I turned it off earlier.”

“But why would you do that?” Merlin asks, bewildered. “It’s nine Celsius outside!”

Arthur lowers his eyes. “I wanted this,” he admits, embarrassed.

Merlin’s fingers dig into Arthur’s back. “What? Arthur, look at me. What are you talking about?”

Arthur shakes his head, and Merlin suddenly seems to get it. He hugs Arthur, hard.

“For heaven’s sake, Arthur, if you needed a hug, you could’ve asked. You didn’t have to turn off the bloody heat for it. You complete and utter wanker, I’ll never understand you if I live to be ninety. I blame it on that idiot father of yours.” Merlin continues muttering into Arthur’s hair, but Arthur stops listening, his heart picking up pace as he clings to Merlin, feeling more emotion than he ever thought capable of feeling for another person.

 _Bloody hell, I fucking love Merlin,_ he thinks to himself, hands clutching at the back of Merlin’s jumper, their legs entwined. _I’m fucking in love with him._ His eyes fill anew, and he chokes, and Merlin becomes alarmed, as well he should, since Arthur’s never been one for displays of emotion, even in front of his best friend.

“Arthur,” Merlin pets Arthur’s hair. “You’re scaring me.” He presses a kiss to Arthur’s temple. Arthur wonders if that means anything—could Merlin possibly feel the same for him, or does he only love Arthur as a friend?

Merlin’s gone to babbling again, as he so often does when nervous.

“…probably been working too hard, and I should’ve noticed. Have you been sleeping? Is this because I’ve slept in my own bed? Bloody Gwaine! I was afraid what he’d said embarrassed you, so I stayed away.”

Arthur lifts his head. “Is that why?”

Merlin glances over Arthur’s face and nods. “He made us sound so odd. I thought maybe you were uncomfortable.”

“I like sleeping with you,” Arthur admits.

“I like it, too.” Merlin smiles. His face grows sober again as he regards Arthur’s sad countenance.

“Arthur, please talk to me. You resorting to turning off our heat just to get some affection from me is nothing short of bizarre. Surely you know all you have to do is ask? Since when am I ever stingy with my hugs?”

“I admit it was stupid,” Arthur replies, looking away. “But I wanted more than a hug. I wanted to lie all night with you…close like this.”

Merlin stills. “Why?”

“Merlin…” Arthur drags his eyes back to his friend’s face, looking for signs of nervousness. When he doesn’t see any, he pushes on. “I—I want more than friendship from you. If you want it.” He forces himself not to look away. Merlin’s eyes are clear and his lips fall open in surprise.

“Please say something, Merlin. Even if it’s that you don’t want it. Just say something,” Arthur begs after a drawn out moment of silence.

Merlin’s tongue comes out to wet his lips. “I, uh…I didn’t expect you to say that. Do you really feel that way?”

“Yes!” Arthur breathes. “I really do! I want to kiss you so badly it hurts!” Arthur’s hand clutches the front of Merlin’s jumper. He’s sure the piece of clothing will be stretched completely out of shape after this.

Merlin’s eyes widen. “You want to kiss me? Since when? Arthur, we’ve known each other forever! You’ve never once said anything about kissing!”

“I don’t know!” Arthur moves his hands up to cup Merlin’s face. “I don’t know when it happened, exactly, I just know I do. Sometimes I watch you talking and I wonder what it would be like to press my mouth to yours. I remember when you dated that tosser Cenred, and he’d kiss you goodnight, I wanted to push him aside and do it right. When you talked about being a bottom for Daegal and how you didn’t like it, I thought how you needed to be a top for me—how it would be so good…” Arthur doesn’t even know where all this is coming from; it keeps pouring out, like a poison that’s been released.

Merlin’s face shows complete astonishment as he listens, his breathing picking up with each new bit of information Arthur gives him.

“…how when you said that bloke from the mail room gave shite blow jobs, I just knew I’d give you the perfect one because your cock in my mouth is all I’ve ever wanted…”

“Arthur!” Merlin groans, and Arthur stops, mouth dry, dick hard and throbbing in his track pants. His hands still surround Merlin’s face, which is completely wrecked, Arthur isn’t sure by what. And then Merlin’s kissing Arthur, his lips soft and insistent, and Arthur opens his mouth, taking in Merlin’s tongue, body pushing forward and leg bending around Merlin’s waist.

Merlin rolls over Arthur, forcing his body into the rug. Arthur’s hands dig into Merlin’s broad shoulders, his mouth moving over Merlin’s, tongues tangling. Arthur thrills at the feel of Merlin’s rock hard erection against Arthur’s thigh.

“Does this mean you’re not averse to the idea?” Arthur asks into Merlin’s mouth, and Merlin groans in answer, swiveling his hips.

“Did you mean what you said about me topping you?” Merlin’s breath is hot in Arthur’s ear. “Because I so want that. You, pinned and squirming beneath me…”

Arthur moans and takes Merlin’s lips again with his. “Yes, I meant it, you wanker…” Something thrills inside him when Merlin pins his wrists to the floor and begins a slow and rhythmic thrust against him, mouth attaching to Arthur’s neck.

A log falls off the fire behind them, sending sparks up the chimney, but Arthur barely notices as Merlin reaches between them, undoing their zippers and taking their cocks out so they can rub together.

“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me this before?” Merlin asks as they move together, the friction sweet as it builds.

“I don’t know,” Arthur breathes. “It was all at the back of my mind. I was afraid you wouldn’t feel the same way.”

“Fuck, Arthur!” Merlin pushes against him, “I fucking _love_ you, you arse!”

Arthur closes his eyes, breathing deeply, riding the sensations that overwhelm him. Merlin grunts over him, body a warm pressure, their cocks dripping, the slide becoming easier. Arthur sees white and then black, his head filling with the rush that’s been building in his body. He lets out a noise that’s almost inhuman in its intensity. Merlin jerks and Arthur feels warm wetness on his skin just before Merlin’s arms wrap around him like ropes, anchoring him.

They lie together like that, satiated and giddily happy until they have the energy to clean up, snuggle down again, and talk.

***

Leon and Morgana’s little house is covered in white lights inside and out. Christmas is Morgana’s favourite holiday, and she always decorates at least three trees. Arthur finds himself staring at one done up all in pink and silver.

“What do you think of it?” Arthur asks Merlin.

“It’s utterly revolting,” Merlin whispers.

“I agree,” Arthur says just before Morgana descends upon them.

“Arthur! Merlin!”  She gives them air kisses so as not to stain their cheeks with her bright red lipstick. “You’re late. Oh my God, Arthur, what is that mark on your neck? Merlin, who is the slag that’s been sucking on my brother’s neck?”

Merlin turns a deep red, and Arthur can’t help but laugh. “Oh, Morgana, you do have a way with words,” he kisses his sister’s cheek. “Happy Christmas. And happy Christmas, Leon! Is that a new jumper?” he slaps Leon on the back.

Leon blushes, looking down at the green jumper with reindeer leaping across the front. “Yes, Morgana’s added to my collection. How are you doing, Arthur? Merlin?” He shakes Merlin’s hand. “I must say, you look like the cat who swallowed the canary. Has something happened I don’t know about?”

Merlin colours again, and Arthur puts a hand at the middle of his back, caressing him gently.

“Can’t a man just be happy it’s Christmas?” Arthur asks.

“Well, certainly…”

Gwen appears with two cups of punch, and a moment later Merlin’s escorted to the other side of the room. Arthur feels bereft, and his eyes stayed pinned on Merlin while Leon chats about work.

“How did it go?” Gwaine whispers in Arthur’s ear, but Arthur waves him off, allowing Lance to lead him away to see the gift he’s gotten for Gwen.

“An engagement ring? Lance, you romantic bugger, you!” Arthur claps his friend on the back.

Lance grins like an idiot. “Do you think she’ll say yes?”

Arthur schools his face. “No, probably not. But she’ll love the ring all the same.”

Lance’s face falls, and Arthur breaks into a grin.

“Of course, she’ll say yes, you ponce! When are you going to ask her?”

“As soon as we leave,” Lance replies, smiling again. “I’m so nervous!”

Arthur cups the back of Lance’s neck fondly. “I’m happy for you, Lance.”

On impulse, Lance pulls Arthur into a hug. “I want all my friends to feel the same happiness I do,” he whispers into Arthur’s ear. “I hope you find it, Arthur.”

Arthur wants to tell Lance that he has, but that’s for he and Merlin to do together. It’s too soon and too new. They’d spent the entire night talking, when their teeth weren’t chattering. Arthur is still on a high.

He and Lance return to the living area where everyone lounges about, admiring the more traditional tree by the window and eating appetizers. Arthur immediately searches out Merlin and finds him in the corner talking to Elena. Their eyes meet, and sparks ignite in Arthur’s belly.

“Arthur!” Freya calls out, scampering towards him. “You’re standing under the mistletoe!” Arthur looks up and, seeing the sprig tied to the light fixture, smiles and kisses her cheek. Suddenly, Merlin’s beside him, touching his arm.

“Ah, here’s Merlin for his kiss,” Freya says slyly, stepping back. They’ve got the attention of their friends, and there are a few catcalls.  Arthur and Merlin glance at one another a bit shyly, give amiable shrugs and lean in. Their lips meet, and it seems the room holds a collective breath.

Then, unexpectedly, Arthur feels Merlin’s mischievous smile against his lips and his arms wind around Arthur’s waist. Arthur takes his cue and wraps his own arms tightly around Merlin, angling his head and deepening the kiss. There’s a gasp from somewhere to their left as Merlin reaches up and grasps Arthur’s hair, his tongue sweeping into Arthur’s mouth. Arthur groans, forgetting where he is until someone—Will?—yells, “Finally, thank fuck!”

When they part, all their friends converge upon them at once.

“Oh, my God!”

“What just happened?”

“Was that your first kiss?”

“Does this mean you’re a couple now?”

“I just got them together; did you see that? I'm bloody brilliant!”

“For fuck's sake, get off them, would you?” Gwaine parts the sea of people.

“You’d think the two of you were a couple of movie stars,” Gwaine grins. “Arthur, you devil, I see you’ve taken my advice!”

Arthur holds Merlin’s hand in his, pulling him close, unable to hold back his grin. “I might have.”

“Well, I think it’s brilliant. I knew Merlin couldn’t find you too abhorrent, living with you as he does.” Gwaine’s dark eyes sparkle teasingly.

“On the contrary,” Merlin quips, “I find him so abhorrent, I’ve given in to pressure and decided to save the rest of the world from the atrocity that is Arthur.”

“Oi!” Arthur digs his fingers into Merlin’s side, tickling him until he breaks down in laughter.

“Stop, Arthur!” Merlin buries his face in Arthur’s neck, and Arthur finds himself melting into him.

“Aw, they’re so cute!” Elena croons.

“Shut up,” Arthur says without ire.

“Happy Christmas, Merlin,” he whispers into his boyfriend’s rather large ear.

“Happy Christmas, Arthur,” Merlin returns, peeking up at him with a shy, yet knowing, smile. “I can’t wait to give you your present tonight.”

Arthur swallows, the room suddenly much, much warmer.

“I’ll be giving you yours, as well,” he says a bit shakily.

“Yes. You will.” Merlin’s eyes never leave Arthur’s, and Arthur’s knees suddenly turn to water.

“Let’s have a seat,” Merlin suggests, leading Arthur to the couch where, surrounded by their friends, they gaze at the tree, laugh, and anticipate the night ahead.

 

 

 


End file.
